Posts Tagged ‘Distinguished_Gentleman’

Over these past few months, I’ve learned a lot about myself and what I need in a man in order for a relationship to stand a snowball’s chance in Hell of surviving between the two of us, and D_G seems to have all of those qualities… and actually asked me to be his girlfriend.

There was no awkward silence one day when he just took it upon himself to introduce me to someone as his girlfriend…

There was no phase in which we were both confused about the boundaries of our relationship…

There was no 9-month wait in which I was constantly looking for signs of how he felt about me because he wouldn’t say the word (sorry… having flashbacks)…

He just fuggin’ said it… with HIS CHEST!

Some of you may be a little confused right now, so to catch you up on the allusion, here’s a clip:

Now for the set-up: We’re at his place on a Thursday night, chillin’, sippin’ ever so slightly on Wal-Mart champagne (don’t judge our small-time romantic evening in… we’re college students, alright!) and eating some sort of chicken and noodles with sauce dish that he cooked (he can cook!). The roads are frozen (when I say frozen, I don’t mean small patches uh-uh no suh… these roads were ice cold, like a national APhiA convention. Burr) and all of his friends were over there, stuck. I love it when his friends are there! They may be the nicest people in the entire world.

Anywho, we’re chillin’, playing DJ Rap Star on whatever video game console they have in his apartment when all of a sudden, his friend, whom I shall refer to as JamRoQ (because he’s a Jamaican Que, which is just so funny to me)grabs a black magic marker, pulls him into the bathroom, and shuts the door.

Ummm… kkkkk?

So I’m looking around the room for an explanation and everyone is avoiding my gaze… so of course my mind goes straight to the worst things imaginable:

They’re doing something mildly freaky and very unholy in that bathroom, and I don’t think I’m into that.

I went into the room and sat down in front of the computer, trying to see if the ice had melted off of the roadways yet so I could go home. I was so engrossed in weather.com that I didn’t even hear the bathroom door open… until D_G crept up behind me and said “Turn around”.

Oh. My. God.

I slowly turned around to find a cheesin’ D_G standing behind me with no shirt on… with something written across his chest. It read:

WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND?

… with a box around the right nipple indicating to grab that one for “no” and one around the left indicating “yes”.

I don’t know if any of you guys saw, but I finally decided to talk to the Distinguished_Gentleman about my celibacy.

Yup. You heard right.

Why, you ask? Because I found (with the help of my awesome readers and commenters) that I needed to tell him before things got serious and any sexual tension cropped up between us. That way, he wouldn’t be expecting anything that I couldn’t (or rather, wouldn’t) deliver.

So the next time I saw him, I sat him down and told him I wanted to talk.

and I just blurted out, “How do you feel about not having sex until, say, October 1st, 2011?”

Of course, he was on the floor laughing. No bueno. I was serious and he was on the floor about to pee himself, laughing! WTF?

“Babe, why such a specific date? If you don’t want to have sex for a while, cool, but it sounds like you’ve got this all figured out in your head using some sort of formula or something. I mean, I know you go to that nerd school and all, but damn.”

I gotta admit, I could kind of see how just bustin’ out a specific date on him could be considered… slightly funny. But this negroid was still on the floor, and he hadn’t stopped laughing yet. Matter of fact, there were tears in his eyes.

I feel like… it just wasn’t that funny.

I guess he saw the look on my face because he straightened up and asked me seriously for my reasoning behind the date.

And I told him everything.

I told him about my past and how I felt like I needed to give myself time to heal and discover more about myself without having sex in the picture as a means of doping myself up, so to speak.

Because we all know sex (well, good sex) is something like a drug. That’s why you can’t just go around doing it in public. That ish is a controlled substance.

Better cuff yo’ dealer, quick!

Anyhow, after he heard all of the sordid details about my past, he gave me a hug (how cheesy… but still oh-so-sweet) and told me that if I wanted to wait, he’d try to tough it out with me.

“I can’t make any promises that I won’t want it at times, because 10 months is a long time, but I support your decision and I won’t cheat on you, so I guess we are in this together.”

I mean yeah, I like him and yeah, he likes me, and yeah, he has some piercings that I’m a little too into (don’t judge me for my freak-like-tendencies)…

… and yeah, he gives the best kisses in the world and cooks for me and massages my legs when I’m sore from ROTC…

But what if it ends?

You see, I’m really starting to care about D_G, and if, for some odd reason, our relationship ended (which is more likely than not)… well… I just don’t want to hurt like that again.

And how am I supposed to tell him about my celibacy? Do I just wait until it comes up or should I tell him now and gauge his reaction? What if he starts acting funny? Although I’d be better off without him, it would still hurt.

Now I’m saying all of this in order to get the point across that while I do feel that I am better equipped now than I was 55 days ago to deal with a relationship because of this celibacy challenge, I may have taken a few steps backwards in the sense of being able to be in one. I know I can be faithful and honest and understanding and all that other jazz, but I don’t think, especially in the case of D_G, that it’s any easier for me to lose someone that I care about.

First of all: I’m a very sexual creature, and, to be honest, I don’t really masturbate for fear of my roommate and her boyfriend (my brother) hearing it and jonesing me about it for… I dunno… THE REST OF MY NATURAL LIFE.

Second of all: I’ve almost completely lost my sex drive. Yeah, it’s easier, but at the same time… I’m only twenty and I really don’t want to have sex with anyone! I’m supposed to be young, dumb, and full of cum…

Now I’m just young and dumb 😦

Last but not least is the third reason I’m shocked at the way things are going:

I met someone.

No, scratch that… I spent time with someone that I met long ago and sparked a new flame. Aww yeah.

So here’s the story:

As a cadet in Army ROTC you tend to meet a lot of cool dudes with nice bodies, but they’re all immediately put into the “just friends” or “running buddy” category because… well… the cadet Corps has enough issues without the added burden of cadets screwing other cadets.

Yeah, I said it.

But last year, one young man in particular (who was a year older than me) caught my eye. He wasn’t magically delicious, like a box of Lucky Charms, or even super strong, like the Hulk…

He was just this average Joe-Schmoe black guy that I actually felt comfortable talking to about stuff, seemed really nice, and that I actually looked forward to seeing on field training exercises and at PT tests, when we’d catch up on each other but somehow never exchange numbers… but was getting kicked out of the program for (duh duh duhhh) legal reasons.

I mean, what can I say? Shawty want a thug… with nipple rings (Oh hell yes, I digs that REAL hard. *drools unapologetically*)

Fast forward to last week and I’m casually clicking the “Send Friend Request” button on facebook to add my cocoa-chocolate-Adonis-fantasy-lover as a friend on facebook. I mean, I hadn’t seen him in FOREVER and we were cool… and he was no longer a cadet, so he could be my friend now… right?

RIGHT?

The next day I just happened to be perusing the F-eth B-eth in my leisure time when a message from him popped up asking how I was. After some witty banter back and forth via the infamous social-networking site, we decided to exchange numbers. After all, a college student may not have clean underwear or decent food to eat, oh, but we will for sure be killing the unlimited text game. #StraightMurkin in ‘dis…

AAANNNYYYWWWHHHOOO… we got to textin’ late LaTe LATE into the night about everything platonic and mildly flirtatious. Ladies and gentlemen, I must admit: when I felt the vibe, I pulled out all of the game that I’d had on reserve for moments such as this for years… which of course ended in us setting up a time to chill together and bake some cupcakes at his dorm, which is about 20 miles away.

But the thing is, he didn’t get off until 11PM that night, and I am not a good driver when I’m well rested, let alone sleepy.

Somehow, Saturday night found me flying up I-75 North with “Lisa Marie” blasting in my ears and the freshest skinny jeans in the ATL hugging each and every one of my curves. When I say I was ready for war, y’all… my jeans were Flocka, front yard, broad day, with the SK. I mean, BA-BA-BA-BA-BOW!

So I finally arrived at my destination and went inside to find a WHOLE BUNCH of people in his apartment drinking and playing Def Jam RockStar.

Sad face. I thought it was gonna be just the two of us.

But, as college often goes, people come and people leave, and soon everyone was gone but his roomies, their female companions, and him and I in the kitchen, arguing over some Red Velvet cake batter and whether or not I should take a shot of Tequila (which I was strongly against… for a few minutes). Then we were icing the cupcakes and he was holding me and telling his roommates not to tell me that I was cool or else I’d get a big head. The shot of tequila left me very sober but afraid to drive and, at 3 AM, I was too sleepy anyhow, so I politely asked to crash.

I felt very bad about this. I hate crashing and I hate being incapacitated in front of people whose respect I desire.

So we went to his room and he politely offered me half of his bed to sleep on, which I gladly took. His school furnished their students with full-sized beds and I was all too used to sleeping on an XL twin 3 feet in the air, so I knew I’d have no problem staying on my side. He gave me his word that he wouldn’t try anything that night, citing the umpteen-million rape cases pending in America that involved the victim drinking beforehand.

OK. Cool.

The next morning I wake up to flashbacks of my time with ArtKid because wouldn’t you know it, this kid is playing in my hair, saying “It’s so fluffy I wanna ddddiiiiieeeee!”

*dead*

And we sat up at 9 AM and talked our way all the way into the afternoon non-stop, not even leaving the confines of his room for food. I had to admit it to myself: the boy had me. He focused solely on me, and even kissed me as we were talking.

Several times.

Ahh… let me be honest… we made out ferociously like two teenagers for a good thirty to forty-five minutes… and it was FUGGING AMAAAAAAZING. He’s probably the best kisser I’ve ever had the pleasure of kissing.

And he didn’t try to go any further than that, which made me want to kiss him even more.

AND (are you guys listening)… he claimed me. I mean to say, he looked me square in the eyes and said, “I want all this to be mine,” and was gesturing to me.

Part of me wanted to just lay down and write his name on my shoulder inside a ribbon on a heart with a black crayola marker, like in elementary school. Ugh! Where have you been all my… college career?!

It’s been more than 24 hours since I got back to my school and I can’t stop thinking about the kisses, the arms wrapped around me in his kitchen, the cupcakes, and him standing at the curb watching me drive away.

I really really really hope this one works out in my favor, and that he’s not the kind of guy who will trip about my celibacy… because I’m still in this 🙂

So, world, herein (hopefully) lies the beginning of a very beautiful thing: the saga of the Distinguished_Gentleman, or D_G for short. Yes, the underscore is mandatory.